


Wherever I lay my Head (That's my Home)

by laughter_now



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-19
Updated: 2012-07-19
Packaged: 2017-11-10 07:05:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/463546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laughter_now/pseuds/laughter_now
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life on a starship means that you have to leave some things behind, no matter how much they mean to you. But in the end, it's not the things in your life that are important, it's the people you love. As long as you can keep them around, everything else doesn't seem that hard anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wherever I lay my Head (That's my Home)

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own anything associated with the Star Trek franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.  
> First posted to my lj on September 4th, 2010.

**_Wherever I Lay My Head (That's My Home)_**  
  
  
It's surprising how different a room looks once you removed all the personal possessions from it.  
  
Back when they moved in here, the room had looked just as bare, just as strange and empty, yet for some reason it feels different now. Maybe that's because now that he knows what the room looked life filled with their possessions, with their books on the shelves, their clothes in the closet and their pictures on the walls, with Jim lounging around on the sofa in those old sweatpants he absolutely refuses to throw away, it's hard not to feel like something is missing now that the room lies stripped bare of all the life they put into it over the past years.  
  
But it's a fact Leonard has to face – their time here is over, once and for all. Tonight, they're already going to be sleeping in their new quarters aboard Enterprise, and tomorrow morning they will ship out, leaving Earth behind for the next five years at the very least.  
  
Leonard still feels a little nauseous at the thought.  
  
It's the right choice, he knows that. It's going forward, and staying in the same place never helped anyone. He just can't help but feel a little nostalgic – and sad, too – at the thought of leaving this dorm room behind. If joining Starfleet was the decision that changed Leonard's life for the better, this room is the one specific place where it had happened.  
  
It's funny, really. Back when he arrived on the Academy campus three years ago, the thought of once more having to spend his time in a small dorm room, sharing his living space with too many people, most of whom about ten years his juniors, didn't seem to appealing. He had first been housed in one of the Medical dorms on the other side of the campus, in one of the small, standard single apartments that consisted of nothing but a tiny bed, a tiny desk, a tiny bathroom and barely enough space in between to turn around without bumping some part of his body into the nearest wall or door.  
  
Leonard had come to the Academy with just one small bag of clothes and a few personal possessions, nowhere near enough to fill even that tiny dorm room. It would have more than sufficed for his needs, really.  
  
But then there was Jim.  
  
If there was one person Leonard had to tie the change in his life to, there was only one possible candidate.  
  
The young, cocky kid from the shuttle, the one who had looked as if someone had used his face to tear down a drywall, for some reason Leonard still can't understand completely decided to attach himself to Leonard.  
  
He didn't get it back then, and sometimes he has to admit that even today, Jim's reasoning still eludes him. But for some reason, Jim made sure that during those first couple of weeks on campus, their paths crossed far more often than their schedules and different tracks would have suggested. And somewhere along the way, Leonard gave up asking about the how and why, and simply accepted that there was no getting rid of Jim until he got bored and started looking for someone more interesting to hang out with.  
  
Only, Jim never got bored.  
  
Somewhere along the way, grudging acceptance turned into friendship.  
  
And that friendship…well, Leonard was probably the last person to ever expect that friendship to turn into something more, but somehow it did. He still can't pinpoint exactly how it happened, and maybe _that_ exactly is the reason why it works in the first place. There's no definite moment when Leonard fell in love with his best friend. This thing between them, this…relationship, it simply grew, until suddenly that first kiss seemed not only like a good idea, but like the next natural step.  
  
Leonard has long since given up questioning it. It works. He loves Jim, and Jim loves him. Somehow, it works. It's as simple as that.  
  
Though it wasn't as simple during those first few months, when they realized that Starfleet was serious about discouraging fraternization between the cadets even if they didn't explicitly forbid it. Everyone who ever tried to fit two people into a Starfleet regulation single bunk knew that. And in the beginning it was nothing more than an obstacle they had to work around. One that kept them from spending the nights with each other comfortably, an annoyance that only continued to grow as their relationship progressed.  
  
So much that during their third semester, they seriously started considering alternative sleeping arrangements. They thought about applying for a shared dorm at first, but with Jim on the command track and Leonard in Medical, it was a virtually hopeless endeavor right from the start. They didn't know anyone in the quartermaster's office whom they could ask for a favor, and Leonard was firmly against any attempt at hacking the database to assign them a shared dorm.  
  
There was, however, one alternative way to get that assignment. It was a possibility they were both very well aware of, but neither of them mentioned it until the very last week of their third semester, when the time to apply for their new room assignment was quickly running out.  
  
Looking back, Leonard still has to laugh about how they dealt with the issue. Every normal couple…well, first of all every normal couple would have probably started by _defining_ themselves as a couple. And after that, every normal couple would have discussed the issue, talked about the possibilities and implications, advantages and disadvantages before they made a choice.  
  
Jim and him…well, they found their own way of handling it.  
  
Three days before the end of the semester, over Chinese takeout in Leonard's tiny dorm, Jim slid a PADD across the table to him.   
  
"We could file a b2."  
  
The 43b-II, or _the b2_ as the cadets called it, was the standard personnel form to declare a committed relationship between two members of Starfleet. It was a concession to those who for whatever reason were unwilling or unable to marry, one that brought a status with certain privileges – coordinated assignments and schedules as well as, most importantly, the right to officially share quarters.  
  
Leonard had downloaded the 43b-II onto his PADD two weeks ago, but hadn't quite worked up the nerve to suggest filing it to Jim. After all, it wasn't just a random form. It was a commitment. Maybe not as big a commitment as marriage, but still. It was a statement that wasn't easily revoked, and it was a matter of public record. Nothing anybody should just file on a whim.  
  
Until the moment Jim handed him the PADD with the form, Leonard hadn't been sure it was a commitment Jim was ready for. Now that he did, though, things suddenly seemed…easy. Not like a big step at all, but like another of those things that seemed like natural progress. And it was the way to get what they wanted, without the need to lie about anything. So yeah, right then the answer was easy.  
  
"Okay."  
  
He picked up the PADD, checked the personal information Jim had entered, signed the form and sent it to Starfleet Command for processing. For maybe a second, Jim seemed surprised, then his face pulled into an almost shy smile. The moment passed as quickly as it had come, and a few minutes later they were already far too busy with the life-changing question of who would get the last spring roll to think about anything else.   
  
It probably wasn't romantic, or one of the moments that felt life-changing while it happened, but it was how Jim and Leonard ended up moving into room 204 on the second floor of Archer Hall, a dorm with bedroom, bathroom, kitchenette and a small workspace for both their desks. Most of all, though, it was a dorm with one bed, and not two of those minuscule affairs that Starfleet called a single bunk.  
  
For the past three semesters, nearly one and a half years, these quarters were their home. And for two people who arrived at the Academy with barely more than the clothes on their backs, it was surprising how quickly they filled these quarters – with clothes, pictures, books, work assignments, souvenirs and other assorted riffraff that simply accumulated over time. They made the room their home, the place where they settled down as they worked towards their future, and in all honesty Leonard never once really considered that the day would come when he'd have to leave it all behind.  
  
Leonard had left his home behind once before, in all honesty he had never planned on doing it again.  
  
But now they are shipping out, packing up their things and slowly but surely depriving the room of everything that made it their home, leaving only a bare generic dorm room behind.  
  
It's still incredibly hard for Leonard to believe how fast it all happened, and how final it's all going to be as soon as he'll board Enterprise later today. He's going to miss this, he realizes as he leans against what used to be his desk and lets his eyes roam around the room one last time. He's going to miss the lazy days spent hanging around on the sofa or in bed, he's going to miss cramming before exams or finals over boxes of takeout food, he's going to miss just talking the night away over a six-pack of beer. He's going to miss Jim and him, here together.  
  
They'll have these things aboard Enterprise, too, but Leonard isn't naïve enough to believe that things won't change. Jim is Captain now, and Leonard is going to be Chief Medical Officer. A lot of things are going to change now, and while Leonard knows that it's going to be new and exciting, he's also sure he's going to miss a lot of things about their life at the Academy.  
  
Most of all, though, he's going to miss their bed.  
  
It was obvious from the very first night on that this thing between him and Jim and the Starfleet standard issue double bed wasn't going to work out. By Leonard's estimation, it wasn't that much wider than the standard twin bed. Definitely not twice as wide. The mattress had a definite dent in the middle, and the bed creaked every time one of them moved or turned around in their sleep. And it was simply too narrow. While Leonard wasn't opposed to the idea of falling asleep wrapped around Jim, during the night he needed _some_ space at least.  
  
They tried to make it work, they really did, but whatever Starfleet had in mind when designing that double bed, it didn't work for them.  
  
He and Jim kept elbowing each other every time one of them moved, and the second night in their new dorm, Leonard accidentally pushed Jim out of the bed. The next morning they decided that the bed had to go, and their next free weekend, they went shopping.  
  
It nearly turned into the rapid and ugly death of their newly acquired 43b-II status.  
  
The first furniture store they came to, Jim immediately made a beeline for the waterbeds. Leonard crossed his arms in front of his chest and told him in no uncertain terms what Pike would do to them if the thing leaked and flooded half the building.  
  
Leonard suggested a simple wrought-iron bed frame instead, but Jim only looked at him as if he had grown a second head, then he rolled his eyes and turned away.  
  
A variation of this scenario played out each and every time one of them suggested a certain bed to the other.  
  
They spent the next two weekends bickering over various beds in more furniture stores than Leonard had ever thought existed in San Francisco. They looked at and tested what felt like a thousand different beds, not all of them designed for humans, but none of them exactly what they were looking for. It was exhausting. Things came to a head in one of those Scandinavian furniture stores, where their bickering and fighting over different beds culminated in a spectacular shouting match in the exhibition room. But even after that horrible trip that really tested Leonard's nerves to their limit, they still hadn't found the right bed and were forced to spend the nights on that death contraption Starfleet called a _standard double bed_.  
  
When they eventually found their bed, it was pure coincidence. Jim liked to call it _fate_ , but Jim was a sappy idiot like that. It was coincidence, end of story.  
  
They had nearly given up on the bed-shopping idea after all those failed attempts when one Saturday, on their way back to campus after breakfast in the best pancake house in the entire Bay Area, they walked past a small antiques store. It was the kind of store Leonard would have never given more than a casual glance, but that morning for some reason he glanced into the storefront window as they passed.  
  
So did Jim.  
  
They both stopped.  
  
Right there, in that small and nondescript store, was their bed. Leonard didn't doubt it even after just that first casual glance.  
  
He was absolutely sure once they actually went into the store and took a good look.  
  
The bed had an old oaken bed frame, matted and not too dark, with a slated headboard and a low, slated footboard. Every part of the bed looked and felt solid and carefully crafted, in a way that suggested it had been built to last.  
  
Leonard fell in love with that bed during those first moments in the furniture store. Judged by the expression on Jim's face, the feeling was mutual.  
  
It was the most comfortable bed he had ever lain on.  
  
It was also well out of their price range.  
  
And still, there was never any question. This was their bed.  
  
Their savings were enough for a down payment, though, and in the following two months, Leonard pulled every available weekend and nightshift at the hospital, and Jim doubled his shifts at the garage where he worked on weekends. It should have been scary, buying this bed together, not as Jim's or his but as _theirs_. It should have been, especially since the last time Leonard had gone through this whole process, he had ended up leaving all they had ever owned together to his ex-wife.  
  
But just like the 43b-II, it felt like the right thing to do, and Leonard had long since given up questioning these things between them.  
  
For the better part of three semesters, the bed was the center of their crammed dorm room and, in a way, also their lives. They slept on that bed, they made love on it, it was where they lounged around on lazy Sundays, where they nursed each other back to health whenever one of them got sick. They fought and made up on that bed, and amidst the mass of Starfleet issued clothes, furniture, schedules and courses that their lives had become, that bed was something that was simply _theirs_.  
  
And now they are shipping out, and while Enterprise might be the newest and best ship of the entire fleet, there is no space aboard for a classic wooden double-frame bed. Just like the rest of their former dorm room, the bed is now packed up. Two Starfleet technicians broke it down into its single parts, and now those parts are wrapped up and on their way to a storage unit where it'll remain until they come back from space for long enough to find a place to settle.  
  
Leonard doesn't know for how long he's sitting there, perched on the edge of his old desk and staring into the empty space where their bed stood – a space Starfleet will soon fill again with another standard-issue double bed – when the comm in his pocket beeps. Tearing himself out of his nostalgic thoughts, Leonard pulls the device out and opens the new message.  
  
 _Bones,  
  
don't get so morose over leaving Earth that you forget to come aboard. I won't leave without you, even if I have to drag you onto Enterprise myself.  
I'll see you at dinner, 19.00 in the mess hall.  
  
Jim_  
  
Leonard smiles as he shuts the comm down and places it back into his pocket. Jim's excitement about his ship, and about the mission they're about to embark on, is almost contagious. And Leonard is sure that Jim has no qualms about leaving all of this behind. Enterprise is a dream come true for him, and unlike Leonard Jim is no nostalgic old fool who hasn't yet learned his lesson about getting too attached to the things that mean something to him.  
  
Jim doesn't get attached to things like that. Oh, he loves that bed just like Leonard does, but now that they can't bring it aboard Enterprise, he's able to leave it behind without tearing up about it.  
  
And maybe he's right, Leonard decides as he gives the room a last cursory sweep to make sure that they haven't forgotten anything. This is the start of something new, and Leonard should just get his ass aboard that dratted tin can and make sure that his Medical Bay is equipped well enough so that he can keep everyone alive.  
  
He should really get going.  
  
The main shuttleport is just a ten minute walk away, and the shuttle ride to Enterprise is fortunately uneventful. Over the years at the Academy, Leonard learned to deal with shuttle rides, and while he's still nowhere near comfortable, he's no longer a panicked, quivering mess as soon as the shuttle takes off and leaves solid ground. Still, these rides are always easier with Jim by his side, but Jim's been aboard Enterprise since early this morning, getting ready to be Captain.  
  
As soon as the shuttle touches down in the Landing Bay, Leonard starts to get a feeling for what the next couple of days will be like. He only wants to do a cursory check of Medical and see who else is aboard already. Technically, he's not on official duty for another two hours. But as soon as he enters, a PADD is pressed into his hands, Chapel starts listing supplies that haven't arrived yet, and the Loading Dock is sending retrieval requests for shipments that need to be brought to Medical. In between all that, Leonard signs off on the preliminary duty roster for the next two weeks, starts marking the files of the new crewmembers in order to schedule their initial physicals, and checks and double checks all requisition forms he's filed over the past weeks against the supply shipments that have arrived already.  
  
By the time 19.00 rolls around and Leonard can finally tear himself away from the much more coordinated chaos of a Medical Bay fourteen hours before departure, he's tired enough that he just wants to go to their quarters, curl up on whatever torture device Starfleet considers a bed worthy of a Captain's quarters, and go to sleep.  
  
But he hasn't seen Jim all day long, he hasn't eaten anything since lunch, and he figures that a quick bite to eat before bed won't hurt. So he leaves Medical in Geoffrey's capable hands for the first and hopefully uneventful nightshift aboard and directs his steps towards the mess hall.  
  
He is a few minutes late and Jim is already there. The mess is relatively empty, and Jim is sitting at one of the tables near the back. His plate of food is still untouched, so it can't have been long since he sat down. Leonard quickly gets himself a tray of food, not really paying much attention to what exactly ends up on his plate, and joins him at the table.  
  
Jim's eyes light up as he slides into the seat across from him, and a smile started to play around the corners of his mouth as he starts attacking his food.  
  
"Good to know I don't have to beam down and drag you aboard."  
  
Leonard spears a piece of meatloaf onto his fork and eyes it suspiciously before he pops it into his mouth.  
  
"Be glad I came aboard early. Seems like Starfleet decided to leave the deliveries for Medical until nearly last, and now everything is arriving at once. It's been chaos down there."  
  
Jim snorts and shakes his head. "As if you'd ever allow chaos in your Medical Bay, Bones. I bet you wouldn't be here now if things down there weren't going right according to schedule."  
  
And he's right, Leonard has to admit even though he'll never say so out loud. Everything's back on schedule in Medical, and he wouldn't have left if that had been any different. It just shouldn't have been so much stress to get there in the first place.  
  
"It was a bit of work. Actually, I only want to eat something and then call it an early night. I'm beat, and I figure tomorrow's going to be a tough day."  
  
Something flickers across Jim's face at those words, quick and nervous and gone before Leonard can really think too much about it. But Jim's undeniably tense for the remainder of their dinner. Not just thrumming with restless and nervous energy like he has been for the past days already, but honest-to-god nervous about something.  
  
It stumps Leonard, because he can't really imagine what has Jim tied into knots like that. He doesn't think that it's the start of their mission, because Jim has been positively giddy about that for days now, and Leonard knows that it's not a show. Jim can hardly wait to get out there in the black, and the nervousness he's showing right now seems to be caused by something else.  
  
That inexplicable tension doesn't ease, at least not until Scotty of all people enters the mess hall, hurries over to where Jim is sitting and murmurs _'the eagle has landed'_ into Jim's ear in a stage whisper that's probably loud enough to be heard two decks down. Leonard nearly chokes on his last forkful of mashed potatoes, but to Jim the cryptic message seems to be a sign he's been waiting for, and he pats his Chief Engineer on the shoulder.  
  
"Thanks Scotty, I owe you one."  
  
Scotty ambles off without further comment, and Leonard is admittedly confused as he watches Jim lean back in his chair, a suddenly satisfied smile on his face. The change seems abrupt, and Leonard feels his brow crease in confusion. He knows he has to get used to some pretty crazy shit now that they're shipping out into space, but this seems like a bit too much for the first day.  
  
"What was that all about?"  
  
Jim just shrugs, unfolding himself from his chair and getting to his feet in one fluid, graceful motion.  
  
"Just some ship's business. Come on, I thought you wanted to go to bed."  
  
The line is delivered with a seductive wriggle of Jim's eyebrows which suggests clearly that what Jim wants to do in bed has nothing to do with sleeping. Which, Leonard has to admit, is an idea he's not exactly opposed to. Besides, that new bed of theirs needs to be thoroughly tested, and who knows how much time they'll have for that, or each other, once Enterprise disembarks.  
  
So he answers Jim's smile with one of his own and gets up as well. "All right, then." He gestures towards the door with a swoop of his arm. "Lead the way, Captain."  
  
They put their trays away and leave the mess, heading towards the nearest turbolift. Jim is walking beside him with a bounce in his step, but the closer they get to the Captain's quarters, the more that strange nervousness returns again. It's weird, and strangely contagious because Leonard can feel his own heart speed up as they approach the door.  
  
Of course he knows the schematics of their new quarters, but he hasn't seen them yet. And considering that he's supposed to be living there for the upcoming five years, maybe it's about time that situation is remedied.  
  
Jim forces a nervous smile as they finally reach their new quarters.  
  
"Here we are." He enters the code into the keypad and the door swishes open before them. They enter their quarters, but Jim stays in front of Leonard as if he's trying to keep him from seeing the rooms entirely right away. It's yet another strange thing, and if Jim doesn't start explaining soon, he's going to get acquainted with the Medical Bay a lot earlier than even Leonard thought he would.  
  
Halfway into the living area, Jim stops.  
  
"I've got a surprise for you. And I hope you like it, because it can't really be undone. So even if you hate it, we're kinda stuck with it, anyway."  
  
Leonard has no idea what exactly Jim is talking about. From what he can see upon first glance, the quarters look pretty much like he expected them to. Maybe a bit smaller, but then again it's difficult to accurately guess the size of a room from engineering schematics. So he really has no idea what this is about, not until Jim grabs his hand and leads him into the bedroom, still babbling nervously.  
  
"Scotty had to move one of the partitions to make enough room, so we have a little less workspace than initially planned. He fit one big desk in there instead of two separate ones, and I thought that since we both have our own office, it should be enough. And we can't really move things around either, because Scotty had to bolt everything to the floor in case artificial gravity goes offline at some point. I can't go against _all_ regulations before we even leave Spacedock, that wouldn't make such a good impression for the start of my career as Captain."  
  
Jim stops for a second and draws a deep breath before he looks at Leonard. "So, I guess what I'm trying to say is that I hope you like it."  
  
He takes a step to the side to finally let Leonard walk past him into the bedroom. Leonard does, and for a second he wonders what the hell Jim is talking about.  
  
Then his eyes fall on the bed, and he stops dead in his tracks as everything suddenly falls into place.  
  
There, in the bedroom, against the center of the opposite wall, is _their_ bed. The wooden double frame they have been sleeping in for the past one and a half years. The bed Leonard had pretty much said goodbye to just this morning when it got disassembled and sent off to storage.  
  
And now the bed is here, and it doesn't really make sense.  
  
"Jim?"  
  
A hand settles warmly against his hip as Jim wraps an arm around his back.  
  
"Surprise," Jim says into his ear, but Leonard is still too stumped to do anything, much less reply.  
  
"What…but…I mean, how?"  
  
At least, not coherently. Jim smirks and plants a kiss against Leonard's cheek.  
  
"Captain's privilege."  
  
Leonard isn't sure he gets it.  
  
"What, the Captain is allowed to bring his own bed aboard? I must have missed that passage in the handbook."  
  
"Oh, I'm pretty sure that as long as the Captain doesn't tell Starfleet Command about the bed, nobody is going to bother him about it. Besides, it's the Captain's duty to make sure that his crew is happy. And this Captain has it on very good authority that his CMO's happiness is intrinsically tied to having a comfortable bed. A very specific bed."  
  
Leonard still cannot believe it, and he's pretty sure he's looking quite dumb as he stands there and keeps shaking his head.  
  
"You bought our bed aboard?" He turns towards Jim, and finds those incredibly blue eyes watching him with obvious amusement. "You really brought our bed here?"  
  
Jim's smile widens impossibly. "Of course I did. Can't have you all grumpy for the next five years, just because you're not getting enough sleep. Besides, I kinda like the bed, too, you know? It was expensive, and we worked hard for it. Besides, it was the first thing we really bought together."  
  
Leonard is pretty sure that he's grinning like an idiot, but he can't bring himself to care right now. Somehow Jim, that crazy, wonderful idiot, managed to sneak their bed aboard. Leonard has to quell the urge to laugh, and the air in the room has to be too dry, because his eyes are starting to burn behind his lids. He can't tear his gaze away from the bed, though, afraid his eyes are playing tricks on him and it's going to vanish if he looks away for a second.  
  
It is no illusion, though. It's really their bed. The wooden frame looks a little out of place in the sleek and stylish quarters, amidst all the panels, computer terminals and technical interfaces. But it's their bed, and just having it here makes the room feel a little like home.  
  
"Bones?" Jim sounds far less sure all of a sudden, and he starts shuffling his feet nervously. "Could you maybe say something?"  
  
Leonard has to bite back a laugh because Jim sounds really insecure, as if Leonard could possibly dislike anything about the idea of bringing their bed aboard, the very same bed whose loss he got all morose over just a few hours ago. But Jim is nervous, and for some reason he really believes that kind of reaction is within the realm of the possible, so Leonard has to convince him of the opposite, and fast.  
  
Framing Jim's cheeks with his hands, he brings their faces together until their lips are nearly touching. "Thank you, Jim," he breathes out, breath ghosting warmly over their skin, before he brings their mouths together. Jim immediately relaxes into his arms, and just like finding their bed in their quarters, kissing Jim feels like coming home. His lips are full and warm against Leonard's, and they part willingly as he deepens the kiss. Leonard figures Jim is going to understand his answer even if he doesn't make many words about it.  
  
They're moving across the room, and even though it's a different room than their dorm it feels as if the bed is their compass needle, and they don't even have to look where they're going to find it. Leonard feels the edge of the frame against his calf and he lets himself fall, pulling Jim atop of him. They break apart breathlessly, and Jim throws his head back and laughs.  
  
"I knew you'd like it."  
  
Considering how insecure Jim seemed just moments ago, Leonard isn't too sure that's the whole truth, but that's really not something he wants to think about right now.  
  
"Knew it'd get you laid, you mean."  
  
Again, Jim laughs before he presses his lips against Leonard's again.  
  
"We need to make sure Scotty did a good job bolting it to the floor," he groans when Leonard finally releases his mouth for a few seconds and starts kissing his way down his jaw and throat. "A quality check, if you will."  
  
A quality check. Leonard can go with that idea. He's convinced Scotty took great care with whatever he did, but still, he thinks as he frantically starts to tug on the hem of Jim's shirt.  
  
It's probably best to make sure.  
  
  
  
 _ **The End**_


End file.
